Cuts on my wrists,
Cuts on my thighs.
Cuts on my hips,
Where they always seem to hide.People always catch me crying,
Though they never know why.
And their kind words make me wait- just a little longer,
Before I say goodbye.
Cuts
Cuts on my wrists,
Cuts on my thighs.
Cuts on my hips,
Where they always seem to hide.People always catch me crying,
Though they never know why.
And their kind words make me wait- just a little longer,
Before I say goodbye.